Destinations {Poe Dameron}

XXII: Thief

Dummies came flying at me from their hiding places in the wall. One by one, with blowing strikes I knocked them down. Taking my own hits as well. Countering, defending, striking. Ten minutes is all it took.

I thought back to my training with my father. It had begun after the incident in the streets with those boys teasing Cain.

"Papa?" I nervously squeaked from across the dinner table. His eyes looked up at me, waiting. Our identical eyes stared at one another. Biting the inside of my cheek.

"I want to start training in combat." I spat it out quickly.

My mother's utensil dropped as her wide eyes found me. Cain just stared down at his plate knowing what this was about.

"May I ask why, when I had offered a year ago. What changed?" He leaned forward.

Looking to Cain, his eyes didn't meet mine. Only the vegetables he played with.

"There were some boys today. They were bullying Cain-" I held a hand up to stop my mother, "I took care of it. I, I kind of, maybe, perhaps punched the leader of them in the nose..." The table was silent.

My father started to grin, and a belly laugh erupted. My mother's slight glare turned to him.

"Rahnan, why are you laughing! Odessa, you are-"

"Kia, she defended her little brother. You should be happy!" My father boasted, he turned back to me.

"What was their reaction? Did they run off with their tails between their legs?" He inquired. A smile erupted on my face as I told him everything that happened, with Cain now wanting to join in on the action. All while our mother listened carefully, trying to hide her worry.

That was when I had decided to be able to defend my family, to help. The training started with simple hand to hand combat. Defense first, following into offense. To weapons and shooting blasters. The older I got, the harder my father was. And with Cain joining us a year after, it was him and I against each other.

A sibling rivalry. But one that was supportive. After every match, despite who came out on top we were back to best friends. Even with all our trash talking, and bringing up touchy subjects.

I smiled at the memories. When I was allianced with the First Order, I suppressed the memories. I couldn't bare them, they only brought me a hatred for myself. Now they give me light, and hope.

Closing my eyes, I cleared my mind once more. My training isn't done.

"Again!" I called to the system, and the countdown began again. It was a repetitive cycle. The minutes it took shrinked each time I yelled for another round.

Standing there panting, sweat beaded my forehead, my mouth opened ready to yell once more.

"Well, that was quite the show." My body spun towards the door, staff raised. Now was not the time to sneak up on me, but that didn't matter to Poe Dameron.

"But not quite the show I thought you'd of all people would put on." His smug tone matched the smirk he wore, he lifted one of his crossed arms. His hand smoothly pushing away the staff that was next to his neck. Releasing my defensive stance, I stood there irritated.

"It's a programmed training. What else could you expect?" I spoke as I turned away to return to the panel. His footsteps lightly trailed me.

"Fight me then."

My head snapped to look at him. Poe Dameron, wants to fight me? More like spar. But nonetheless.

He had noticed my confusion, but took it for hesitation.